


Two-way Street

by har1ey_quinn



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Getting Together, Humor maybe, Jealous Derek, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Succubi & Incubi, both boys are dumb, fancy stakeout, not sure what else actually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-09
Updated: 2014-09-09
Packaged: 2018-02-16 17:14:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2278023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/har1ey_quinn/pseuds/har1ey_quinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe the Italian restaurant is a bit over the top for a stake-out, but Stiles will gladly take this over the alley with the molding dumpster when they were looking for a goblin. He still has nightmares from the smell.</p><p>“She’s here.” Derek sniffs slightly before turning in the direction of the door. Stiles follows his gaze, still chewing on his chicken, and sees a woman with light blonde hair, almost white, standing next to a really old looking dude (in Stiles’ opinion) with gold rings on his hands. He can see the unearthly beauty of the succubus, from the graceful way she moves to the almost translucent tone of her skin.</p><p>“Oh man, and we haven’t even gotten to dessert yet.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two-way Street

Stiles doesn’t think this is a date. Because it isn’t. Derek would never go on a date with him. It’s more like a business dinner (or a classy stake-out) anyway, at an elegant Italian restaurant in a five-star hotel one town over because a succubus has been preying on wealthy men in fancy hotel restaurants in _broad daylight_ (and since when do succubi have MO’s?). They had miraculously managed to track her down to this particular town as she made her way down California from Oregon.

Derek is going because he looks like he’s a wealthy (ish?) guy (and _is_ a wealthy-ish guy, actually) and obviously with the whole _I-am-the-Alpha_ shtick, he’s not going to back down until the succubus is dead. Stiles is an addition because, besides Lydia (who is currently away at a physics competition), is the only one who can read and remember Latin scripts. The rest of the pack is on stand-by though, just in case.

So it’s really not a date.

And unfortunately for Stiles, the restaurant has a _formal attire_ _only_ rule and the last time Stiles wore a suit had been to prom three years back. Even across the country, Lydia had made sure the two of them got fitted with suits because if they were going to do a convincing job, they better damn well look good doing it. The unfortunate part is that while Stiles admits a fitted suit actually looks pretty great on him, he pales in comparison to how _Derek_ looks. Armani models have _nothing_ on Derek (and Stiles has appreciated David Gandy from time to time). The white dress shirt looks like a second skin on Derek from how tight it is, the first two buttons were left alone so Stiles is left staring at the smooth skin peeking from underneath (and Stiles vaguely wonders if Derek waxes his chest). The gray suit jacket defines the word _fitted_ very well, Stiles told himself not to cry at Derek’s amazing shoulder-to-waist ratio because no one should be allowed to be that perfect. And he’d rather forget even glancing at Derek as he sat down and the slacks pulled tight against very strong thigh muscles-

“Hello gentlemen, I’m William and I’ll be your waiter for the night. Would you like to get started with something to drink?”

Stiles startles and looks up to bright blue eyes and a blinding white smile. The waiter is young… and cute, Stiles decides once he gets a good look at him. He returns the smile easily. “What wine would you recommend?”

“ _Stiles_.”

Stiles ignores Derek and continues smiling up at William.

“There are a few that are my favorite.” William answers, “Would you prefer white or red?”

“Red would be nice.” Stiles says. He can feel Derek glaring at him, but if he’s going to make it through the night with Derek dressed like _that_ and fight a succubus, then he’s going to need some help.

“Then I would say that the Luigi Einaudi Barolo Cannubi or the Antinori Guado al Tasso 2010 are both excellent choices.” It’s obvious William has had practice saying those names.

Stiles is not a wine buff, but Lydia has dragged him to various wine tastings in Napa, not to mention his trip to Italy, so he’s not _completely_ lost. “I’ll take the Antinori Guado al Tasso.”

William grins before turning to Derek, only to have his smile falter under the murderous look on the werewolf’s face. “And for you, sir?”

Stiles can tell Derek is one second away from baring his teeth at the waiter so he quickly speaks up before they get kicked out of the restaurant (Lydia would never forgive them), “He’ll take the wine as well.” Never mind that he can’t get drunk, but Derek should still be able to appreciate the taste.

William nods, and gives Stiles another grin. “I’ll be right back with your beverages.”

Stiles smiles at him in thanks before turning to a fuming werewolf (anyone sane would be cowering, but countless times of seeing Derek shirtless has made Stiles immune to the general scowling and glaring). “You know, manners won’t kill you.”

Derek does bare his teeth at him. “Wine, Stiles? We’re on a _job_. I don’t need you to be drunk or flirting with the waiter when there’s a succubus to be found.” He’s so _hissy_ \- Stiles thinks he’d be better off as a were _cat_.

“Whoa, wha- _flirting_? He smiled, I smiled! What’s so bad about common courtesy?” Stiles asks, incredulous. “And I’m not getting _drunk_. I’ve spent three years in college building up an excellent tolerance to alcohol, thank you very much,” Derek doesn’t look very happy at that, which is kind of weird, since he doesn’t care about Stiles (right?), “I’m simply taking advantage of the fact that while I’m a broke college student, my friends and- and you, have money.” Stiles finishes and picks up the menu to distract himself from Derek’s intense look.

Stiles still isn’t sure where Derek and he fall in the relationship category. They are not enemies anymore, after numerous life-saving moments between them, it is difficult to keep up the enemy pretense. But are they friends? Derek never actively seeks out Stiles, nor does he show any interest in being anywhere near him. They argue constantly, refute each other’s ideas, and spend half the time during pack meetings making snide remarks to one another. So _friends_ might be pushing it. And it really doesn’t help that Stiles might have a (going to be five-year) crush on the Alpha werewolf. It’s like Lydia all over again (granted, he and Lydia are pretty close friends but he doesn’t think that’ll happen with Derek as well).

William arrives in time to save Stiles from further souring his own mood, bearing two wine glasses and the bottle of a dark red wine. He places the glasses in front of them and serves the rich liquid, giving Stiles a small smile.

“Would you like to keep the bottle?” William directs the questions to Stiles, he seems intent on ignoring Derek, who has taken to glowering at the waiter.

“Yes, thank you.” Lydia did say she’d pay for everything, so.

“Are you ready to order, or would you like more time?” It’s endearing how Stiles seems to be the only one at the table from how William is giving him his undivided attention. If he wasn’t so in love with the brooding werewolf, Stiles would’ve definitely left the restaurant with William’s number.

“I think a bit more time would be great.” Stiles answers, still smiling at the waiter.

William returns the smile. “I’ll be back in a few. I hope you enjoy the wine.”

“I’m sure I will, thank you.”

William scurries away after trying to give Derek a polite smile but clearly fails to leave a good impression.

Stiles takes a sip of the dark-colored wine and finds it’s actually not bad, there are hints of mint and licorice underneath the fruit. He ends up drinking half the glass before he notices Derek staring at him. “You should taste the wine, it’s pretty good.”

“I’m sure _William_ wouldn’t mind sharing it with you.”

“Oh my god, seriously? He’s our waiter, what’s wrong with being nice? Do you _want_ him to spit on our food?” Derek crosses his arms and looks to the side in annoyance. _Rude_. “Honestly, you’re making his job a lot harder than it needs to be by glaring at him when _he has done nothing wrong_.”

Stiles chooses to ignore Derek and looks back down at the menu, but his mind wanders back to the werewolf as he finishes the rest of the wine in his glass. He doesn’t get why Derek is being so difficult, more so than he usually is. Maybe the Italian restaurant is a bit over the top for a stake-out, but Stiles will gladly take this over the alley with the molding dumpster when they were looking for a goblin. He still has nightmares from the smell. And Stiles figured Derek would at least show some tolerance towards him, it’s the first time in months since they’ve actually seen each other- Stiles had just finished his third year at Berkeley and a succubus was not precisely what he had expected as a warm welcome home, even from Derek.

He feels his mouth droop slightly only to be startled when Derek growls, “What.”

Stiles looks up at him, raising an eyebrow in confusion. “I’m sorry?”

“You smell upset-”

“Upset has a smell?” Stiles interrupts, unable to resist.

Derek clenches his jaw, looking like he regrets ever speaking up. “Never mind.” His expression only turns sourer when William appears at the table and quickly refills Stiles’ glass.

William has a black leather pad in his hand. “Will you be ordering an appetizer or-”

“I think we’ll just go ahead and order our meal.” Stiles says and earns a nod from the waiter, “I’ll have the Pollo alla Diavola.”

“Alright, and…” William turns to Derek with a hesitant smile, “for you, sir?”

Derek is looking down at the menu written in Italian, and Stiles catches the slightly lost look on his face. “He’ll have the Bistecca.”

William looks back at Stiles, and then again at Derek, who gives him a stiff nod. “Alright, I’ll be out with your order soon.” He takes a step to leave only to return back to Stiles. “Did you enjoy the wine?” He looks hopeful, like he’s trying to make sure he made the right choice in wine.

“I did, it’s really good.” Stiles says, honest. “Thank you for recommending it.”

William preens at that, and then leaves after flashing Stiles another pearly-white smile.

Derek is chugging down the wine when Stiles turns back to him. “I ordered you dry aged sirloin, should be good enough for your delicate palate- not sure they serve fresh woodland creatures here- but it'll go well with the wine.” Derek throws him a dirty look.

“Since when do you know Italian?” Derek grumbles.

“I spent fall quarter in Milan, don’t you remember? I wasn’t home for Thanksgiving, came back just before Christmas…?” Stiles knows they’re not best friends, but he’d hoped Derek at least knew he was alive somewhere in the world.

Derek’s lips thin out into a line. “I didn’t- you never told me.”

Stiles frowns. “Dude, I didn’t shut up about it the whole summer! I told anyone that would listen about how I got a scholarship and I’d be spending the fall in Italy and that I had started talking to my host family.” Stiles takes a sip of his wine. “I’m pretty sure I mentioned it around you.”

“But you never told _me_.” Derek repeats, frowning at the cloth napkin in front of him.

“I-” Stiles isn’t sure what to say. Derek keeps acting strange. “Did you want me to tell you?”

Derek raises one shoulder in a half-shrug, and he starts picking at a stray thread on the cloth napkin.

“Dude, come on, whenever I try to talk to you, you look like you’d rather be anywhere else. If I knew you were interested I would’ve said something but,” Stiles shrugs, drowning down the last of his wine, “conversations are kind of a two-way street and yours seems to be closed off.”

Derek doesn’t answer, opting to try and bear holes on the napkin by sheer mental power.

“See? You’re doing it right now! Normally, it’d be your turn to say something. I mean, I know I talk enough for like the whole restaurant but it would be nice if you could throw me a bone once in a while.”

Derek glares at him for the intended dog pun but is saved from responding by William, who has arrived bearing delicious food (and wow that was quick, excellent service here). Now, if only every other supernatural creature liked fancy restaurants, that’d be great.

“Here you go, gentlemen,” William says as he places the food in front of them, “I hope you enjoy your food.” He looks like he wants to say something more but he falters under Derek’s look, “um, buon appetito.” He throws Stiles one last smile before taking his tray and leaving.

Stiles looks down at his chicken, it looks almost too pretty to be eaten but it smells even better so he decides to sacrifice its aesthetical appeal and instantly digs in, savoring the thousand flavors that hit his tongue in the first bite. He resists the urge to moan as he continues eating, only stopping when he notices Derek smelling his food delicately.

“Would you just eat it? You’re going to need the energy for when the succubus gets here.” Stiles says, washing down the chicken with his refilled wine.

Derek grumbles something under his breath but he turns back to his food and begins eating silently.

Which is pretty much how the rest of the dinner goes, with neither Stiles nor Derek saying a word.

Stiles accepts the silence between them because he’s too busy eating the chicken to try and talk to Derek, who seems to be scarfing down the food. It makes Stiles wonder whether a) it’s really good, b) Derek just wants to leave or c) it’s a wolf thing, trying to make sure no other predators eat his food. He snorts to himself at the last one, earning a glance from Derek.

He shakes his head in response and continues picking at the greens next to his chicken. He’s almost done with his meal when he sees Derek stiffen, fork in mid-air.

“She’s here.” Derek sniffs slightly before turning in the direction of the door. Stiles follows his gaze, still chewing on his chicken, and sees a woman with light blonde hair, almost white, standing next to a really old looking dude (in Stiles’ opinion) with gold rings on his hands. He can see the unearthly beauty of the succubus, from the graceful way she moves to the almost translucent tone of her skin.

“Oh man, and we haven’t even gotten to dessert yet.”

Derek glares at him and Stiles watches in amazement as he grabs the cloth napkin and delicately wipes his lips before standing up. It’s the most elegant thing Stiles has ever witnessed and he’s so distracted by it that he fails to see the succubus walking away into a hallway until Derek pulls him up.

“Hey, hey, this is _Hugo Boss_ and it’s worth three month’s rent and like seven full meals.” Stiles isn’t joking either, Lydia kind of went overboard with the whole suit thing and almost had a heart attack over Skype when Stiles told her he could just wear his prom suit.

Derek huffs and straightens him up, brushing off the wrinkles and making Stiles squirm at being manhandled (not that he’s complaining, really). “Whoa, hey- what are you doi-”

“ _Come on._ We’re wasting time.” Derek says and walks in the direction the succubus went.

Stiles has no other option but to follow him, trying his best to keep up with Derek’s long strides. “Hey, so you know how succubi work right? You sure you’ll be fine?”

Derek stops suddenly and Stiles crashes into his (very strong, very firm) back with a grunt. “Don’t worry about me.” Well, that’s not very helpful. “Will _you_ be ok?”

“Yeah.” Stiles is completely devoted to Derek, even if the werewolf is a dick sometimes. “I’ll be good.”

Derek’s face is unreadable.

They make their way down the hallway, Derek occasionally pauses and smells the air until he finally stops in front of a door. Stiles is glad it’s nondescript, he’d rather not explain to anyone why two grown men were entering the lady’s room.

“Stay behind me.”

Stiles tries not to make a face at this. He is not a damsel (or man actually, there’s no need to put a specific gender) in distress who needs protection, thank you very much, he is quite capable of taking care of himself. 

He says as much to Derek.

Predictably, Derek growls. “Now is not the time to prove yourself.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “She uses sex as a weapon. I don’t know about you, but I’m not about to have sex with a demon anytime soon. Or at all really. It’s not in my future plans so-”

“Stiles. Shut up.” Stiles is about to go off on another tangent about manners but Derek isn’t looking at him. He’s looking into the room (and when did he open the door?) where the succubus is sitting on an elegant red chair that looks more like a throne you’d find at a palace.

He wants a chair like that.

“I want a chair like that.” Stiles says, tugging Derek’s sleeve.

Derek sighs, and looks up to the ceiling, seemingly asking for strength. So rude.

“Well, aren’t you adorable?” The succubus is staring at Stiles, which is flattering really, that a demon known for her beauty finds him attractive. Her voice is annoying though, high-pitched and maybe a bit slithery (if that can be applied to a voice) so Stiles quickly loses interest in the succubus- he’s more into growls and caveman noises (and what does _that_ say about him?).

However, that doesn’t mean he can’t have a little fun while getting the job done. “I’d like to think of myself as ruggedly handsome actually, not adorable. I mean, have you _seen_ this suit? It’s like magic.”

“ _Stiles_.” The words come out slightly garbled, which means Derek is on the process of sharpening his canines. There’s a hand on his arm, and Stiles suddenly fears for his suit. Lydia will kill him if he ruins it.

“Hey, hey, no claws on Hugo.” Stiles flaps his hand at Derek, trying to get him to let him go. It only prompts Derek to grip tighter.

“Stiles, was it?” The succubus is suddenly a lot closer, her terrifying icy blue eyes unwavering as she looks at Stiles. Her smile is sharp and feral, only amplified by the red hot lipstick (it kinda reminds Stiles of Erica whenever she wants something from him, and that’s not a good thing).

Derek is growling deep enough that Stiles can feel it on the arm Derek is still holding onto, which is pretty amazing, Stiles wants to know the sound intensity in that growl.

“Yup, that’s my name.” Stiles laughs weakly. His arm is beginning to lose feeling.

“Why don’t we have a nice chat by ourselves? You’ve been alone for a long time, haven’t you?” She continues to look at Stiles without blinking, which is pretty unnerving, but like William, she does an amazing job at ignoring Derek.

“No, no, I’m fine really. Peachy. Not lonely.” He shakes his arm a bit but it’s useless for all the help that does, it’s like he’s tied to a statue. A growling, glaring statue.

“But that’s not exactly true, is it? He’ll never give you the time of day, why are you still in love with him?” Wow, ok, way to rub lemon on the wound. This succubus plays dirty. “I can make you forget him, I can make you move on. Don’t you want that, a chance to be with someone who wants you?”

“I’m sure you’ve got a great dating profile but-”

“He’s never going to love you, Stiles. He’s _weak_. Weak and scared. You don’t need someone like him.” Stiles doesn’t know if the succubus knows it’s Derek, but he wouldn’t put it past it to know though. “Let me show you that you can be happy.”

The succubus makes a move to touch Stiles’ other arm, but Derek reacts faster than Stiles, grabbing the succubus and pushing her away from Stiles. His eyes are burning red, claws and fangs are out as he tries to intimidate the succubus while she struggles against him.

“ _Let go of me, wolf_.” Her voice has changed into a high whispery sound as she bares her own pointy teeth, and her eyes have turned into slits. She’s definitely trying to give Derek a run for his money on who has the best glare. It’s a close tie.

“ _Now_ , Stiles.” Derek grunts through his clenched jaw.

Stiles snaps out of it, what the succubus said still swimming in his head as he stutters out the Latin phrases that he had meticulously remembered.

The succubus screams as Stiles finishes, yelling back at them in Latin as she starts to convulse violently. She falls to the ground when Derek lets go of her and walks backwards, crowding against Stiles while keeping his eyes trained on the succubus.

A few seconds pass where the succubus is still twitching until she goes limp, her arms falling to the side with soft thuds.

“Is she dead? Poke her.” Stiles says over Derek’s shoulder.

Derek doesn’t answer but he walks over to the succubus, cautious and calculating. He must deem her dead enough because he takes out his cellphone and calls Boyd to ‘come take care of the body’. He hangs up, but he’s refusing to look at Stiles.

“Oh ok, well everything’s taken care of.” Stiles really want to leave now. He wants to forget what the succubus said. He can’t deal with Derek right now.

He makes a move to go back to the hall, wondering if his chicken is still at the table, when Derek decides to block his path. Damn werewolf speed.

“Wha- Derek, c’mon, let me pass. I want to see if our table is still open, maybe order dessert and-”

“Who is weak?”

The question is said quietly, Stiles almost misses it were they not standing centimeters away from each other.

“No one. No one is weak. No weaknesses here.”

“She,” Derek growls, jerking his head at the body behind Stiles, “knew who-” He breaks off, looking down as he fists his hands. “You’re in love.” The words are forced, like someone had to pull them past Derek’s lips. “And… he doesn’t love you.”

Stiles wants to leave. Like an hour ago. He shifts uncomfortably, trying to look anywhere but at the werewolf in front of him. “Derek…” He groans and rubs both hands on his face. He’d rather be at the smelly alley at the moment. “Look, just forget about it, ok? It doesn’t matter, I’ll get over it eventually. The succubus is dead, hooray, can we go back to our table and just finish our dinner? Or back to Beacon Hills, I don’t care.”

Derek looks up at him, and Stiles can’t find enough strength to not look at Derek, his eyes seemingly magnetized as they stare into those stupid green eyes.

“Who are you in love with, Stiles?”

Stiles wishes teleporting was a thing. Aruba had to be a nice place this time of year, right?

“Stiles, answer me.”

Maybe Dubai, heck even Australia, where he could hug koalas all day long without anyone judging him.

He’s brought back from his fantasies when Derek grabs his shoulders, strong hands gripping tightly. And that only seems to make Stiles angry. Derek had done nothing but ignore him all day long, all _year_ long even, and suddenly he’s invested in Stiles’ love life? What the hell?

“Why do you care, anyway? It’s never mattered to you before.”

Derek quickly drops his hands from his shoulders. He runs a hand through his combed hair, messing it up while the suit jacket pulls up tight at the motion. “I- I just-”

A new thought creeps into Stiles’ mind. “Why were _you_ affected by the succubus?”

Derek stiffens. “It not- it doesn’t matter.”

Terrible answer, Stiles is not accepting that. “Oh no, it matters.” He jabs a finger at Derek’s chest. “You’re all ready to talk about my love interest, but we can’t talk about yours?”

Derek looks down at his finger and then back at Stiles. “It. Doesn’t. Matter.”

“It matters enough if you ignored a sex demon. Why, huh? You wanna share with the class?”

“Forget it, Stiles. Let’s go.”

It’s predictable behavior for Derek to run away, but Stiles is having none of that anymore. He throws himself- making sure to close the door behind him so no one questions the dead body in the room- and blocks Derek’s path down the hallway. “Tell me, Derek. Why weren’t you affected? Who are _you_ in love with?” He can feel his heart threatening to jump out of his ribcage from how fast it’s beating.

“Stiles, let me pass.” Derek is looking past him, where the entrance of the restaurant lies.

“No.” Stiles knows that Derek could easily shoulder past him, clearly he’s humoring him. “Not until you tell me why you think it doesn’t matter who you’re in love with.”

“Because he’s in love with someone else!” Derek finally yells, his cheeks now a deep hue, closely matching the red seeping into his eyes.

Stiles swallows back the response he’d thought of because this wasn’t what he expected. Because first of all, since when is Derek gay? And of course that’d be the first thing Stiles latches onto. But then things start to fall into place and Stiles really hopes his mind isn’t just trying to tie things neatly so he can have his happily ever after. He needs to confirm it, confirm that maybe their feelings _are_ like a two-way street even if their communication isn't. He needs Derek to say it.

“Derek,” He keeps his eyes trained on the werewolf’s carefully blank face. “Who are you in love with?”

Derek shakes his head, pursing his lips into a thin line.

Stiles scowls at him. Stupid infuriating Alpha werewolves who can’t take initiative. “You’re not weak.”

Derek’s head snaps up in response, his green eyes widening slightly as he tries to make sense of Stiles’ statement.

“You’re not weak,” Stiles repeats, shrugging. “Scared, yeah ok, maybe I’ll give her that, but I don’t think you’re weak.”

Derek’s eyes get wider, which should be funny coupled with the opening and closing of his mouth, but Stiles is sort of dying here so he’d really like it if Derek said something, preferably soon. Like right now soon.

“You’re- I’m- but you’ve never-” Derek trips over his words, looking like a lost puppy, before finally asking in a small voice that totally doesn’t belong to him, “ _What_?”

Stiles wants to hit his head against the wall. As far as love confessions go, this wasn’t what he expected. He’d gone more along the lines of epic battle confessions where they’re drenched in green guts and splattered with blood and they finally realize their love for one another and they ride into the sunset to live happily ever after but it’s time Stiles realizes that things never go as planned in his life.

“I’m in love with you, asshole.” Alright, so Stiles isn’t very good with confessions. “Been in love with you for like five years, actually.”

Derek frowns, and if Stiles is being honest, he’s actually kind of pouting. “But you never said anything.”

“Dude, I’m pretty sure you could smell how into you I was before I knew what I was feeling.”

“But you never _said_ anything.”

Oh, so now it’s Stiles’ fault?

“Oh, so now it’s my fault? Excuse me for not declaring my love to you when you could barely stand to be in the same room as me!”

This definitely isn’t going as planned.

“I wasn’t- that wasn’t- I thought you only liked me because-” Derek blushes then, and it’s only more of an indication of how much Stiles knows Derek to know what he’s thinking just from that blush.

“You thought I only liked you for your body.”

Derek looks away, but he nods once.

Stiles nods along with him. “I’ll admit that my sixteen year old self found you to be better jerkoff material than porn,” Stiles doesn’t miss how Derek blushes even more, “but that doesn’t mean I didn’t _like_ you like you.” Stiles pauses before continuing, “And you didn’t say anything either.”

“You were underage, your father is the Sheriff.”

Stiles will accept that sure, maybe his being sixteen with a father in law enforcement was enough to send an exonerated Alpha werewolf running the other way, but-“I haven’t been underage for three years now, what’s your excuse for that?”

“You were in Berkeley,” Derek shrugs, “I didn’t want to hold you ba- stop you from experiencing college.”

“Hold me back?” Stiles really has had enough, his epic love confession has turned into more feelings than he had hoped for and this is too much for one night. They can sort out all the ups and downs later. Right now, Stiles believes actions speak louder than words, even if the latter is what he’s best at. “You unbelievable son of a-” He doesn’t bother finishing the sentences, he’s quite happy using his lips for something other than talking.

Derek freezes as Stiles tugs him closer without removing his mouth from Derek’s unmoving lips. It’s kinda weird trying to kiss when the other party is unresponsive and he’s about to break off with a _never mind_ when there’s a hand on the back of his neck and another snaking around his waist. Now _this_ , Stiles approves of wholeheartedly. Very approving of the way Derek’s body presses against his until there’s no space left, and Stiles knew Derek’s stubble would feel as awesome as it looked, it’s soft but prickly at the same time and just overall _awesome_.

But just as things are about to interesting, someone clears their throat a bit pointedly and yeah, Derek and Stiles kind of tangled with one another in an empty hallway, it’s bound to be suspicious.

Derek growls lowly when Stiles breaks off and turns around, his face flushing because _of course_ their waiter would wonder where they went. He gives William a weak smile. “H-hey, William.”

Derek’s growls get louder so Stiles tries to subtly step on his shoe, which is to say it’s not subtle at all.

“Is everything all right, sirs?” William looks like he swallowed lemon.

“Yes, yes everything is fine.” Stiles straightens out his suit jacket, which had gotten a bit rumpled during the manhandling. “We just had some things to clear up.” He can see Derek smirk from the corner of his eye. Smug bastard, their waiter is so going to spit on their food now.

William doesn’t look convinced, smiling a bit uncomfortably. “Will you need me to clear your table?”

Stiles still wants dessert and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get it. “Yes, please. We were just about to return for dessert, actually.”

 William nods once and leaves with a small ‘excuse me’.

“Dessert, Stiles?” Derek asks, his hands gripping Stiles’ waist. He doesn’t sounds very happy at the prospect of dessert, which is a travesty.

“Dessert, Derek.” Stiles answers in the same dry tone. “I will have my tiramisu, if it’s not too much trouble.”

Derek rolls his eyes and grabs his hand to lead him down the hall and back to their table in the restaurant. Stiles tries not to preen too much at the fact that he’s holding hands with _Derek Hale_ , werewolf extraordinaire and love interest- possible boyfriend even.

 They still have a lot to talk about, like Derek’s inability to communicate and the fact that Stiles still has college to worry about, but that can come later. Right now, all Stiles wants to do is enjoy his Gambert de Loche and his tiramisu while sitting across Derek and watch him go from glaring at a suddenly contrite William to staring at Stiles with nothing but unbelievable adoration in those green eyes of his.

Stiles totally thinks this is a date.

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I don't know anything about succubi or wines.  
> EDIT: Since people were kind to make a comment about the wines (which I really know nothing of since I've never drank nor gone to a fancy Italian restaurant), I totally changed it to make it plausible-ish....sorry! thanks for pointing it out (: 
> 
> Second of all, this wasn't how I envisioned this fic to be but oh well, hope it was still ok. 
> 
> Sooo comments, suggestions, maybe even prompts are welcomed although I do have a couple more fics in the works so hopefully I can finish them. And as always, my tumblr is [here](http://psycho-delyc.tumblr.com/) to those who aren't scared of saying hi (:


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